Shattered Remains
by redtrouble
Summary: In a dream world, Raaja encounters Thumore D'Armer, who asks her to collect the fragments of his shattered self to save him, a mission that could cost Raaja her life. A/N: Based on the Hero's Festival quest Shattered Remains in EQII. UPDATED.
1. The First Dream

**Shattered Remains**

Raaja Frozenstar

A dream diary and catalog of events related, of the years 3827 and 3828

**Burnday, Lastleaf 24, 3827**

Raaja slowly opened her eyes and glanced around at an empty place reaching into oblivion. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it—that there was nothing in this place save for darkness, fog, and silence.

Kahn, the white-haired capuchin monkey, chirped near her feet. She scooped him into her arms and carefully crept forward. The Erudite's words hung in the forefront of her mind: when you fall asleep, you'll never wake up again... none of them have.

She wasn't sure how far or how long she walked—it could have been moments that took steps or hours spent on miles—before she saw the figure in the fog. A man's silhouette was slowly emerging. She hesitated only a moment and then moved closer.

His features became clear only when she was close enough to spit at him. A brigand's cut of long and spiky red-orange hair fell to his jaw and a full beard traced his jaw and mouth. And his eyes were blue—like the ocean, not the sky.

A serene expression remained on his face. His lips did not smile or frown and his eyes were not twinkling with even the slightest surprise. He seemed to be neither expecting her nor surprised to see her.

"Who are you?" Raaja asked, discarding formalities.

"Shouldn't you know me?" he countered, his voice deep.

She furrowed a brow. "Should I know you?" she asked as she moved Kahn up to perch on her left shoulder. "I've never seen you before in my life."

"This is your dream, isn't it?"

"It may be at that," she muttered, "but I have seen and known many strange things and I've sung of stranger still. This is no ordinary dream, Stranger, if it is one at all."

The smile that blossomed beneath prickly red hairs was gentle. "It is a dream," he confirmed, "but you're right. It is no ordinary dream."

"I know," she told him. "The Erudite warned me before I went to sleep."

"You knew?" he asked and she nodded. "You came here willingly?"

"I did."

"Why?"

"There's trouble. People falling asleep and not waking up... a sickness afflicting. I came to put an end to it. Or try."

He smiled in amusement. "You are brave," he said and she shook her head, but her denial only served to amuse him more.

"I have nothing more to be afraid of," she said. "Being brave counts for nothing if there is nothing to fear."

He gazed at her long and thoughtfully until she shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure that's true anymore..." he said quietly. She twitched in annoyance and brought the topic full circle.

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"Thumore D'armer," he replied. "And you are, my lady?"

"Raaja," she told him and then pointed to the small monkey on her shoulder. "And this is Kahn."

"Well met. I'm surprised you haven't gone mad."

"Gone mad? Why would I?"

"It's what all the others have done after entering here."

"Ah... I see. I guess that explains why no one's waking up. What about you? Why haven't you gone mad?"

He didn't answer and instead began walking away, motioning for her to follow. She fell in step beside him.

"They're lost in this realm—their minds are," he explained. "They did not have the will nor," he glanced at her, "strength to come so far. But you... may be able to help them. Help all of them. Help me..."

Raaja stopped and waited until he turned to face her. "Help you," she repeated. "With what?"

"This realm is unstable. I cannot control it. I have no power over it—not as I am."

"This is your realm?"

"Not exactly. More like a cell."

"And who keeps the keys?"

"I don't know," he confessed, "but if I am to help these people, stop this affliction, I need that power back."

"And how do we get it back?"

"We?" he asked with a smirk. She shrugged the shoulder not occupied by a monkey.

"I've done this song and dance before. I can see where this is going."

"Very well..." he murmured, still grinning. He closed the distance between them. "I need you to wake up," he explained. "I need you to return to the world and find pieces of my shattered self. Return them to me here and I will help these people, stop the affliction."

"Pieces of you?" she echoed, reaching out to touch him even as she spoke. "What are you?"

Her hand met flesh, fingers rustling his beard, palm resting on his cheek. He chuckled at her surprised expression and brought his hand up to cover hers.

"I'm no ghost, as you can feel," he said. "I am real, but only a fragment of my true self." His voice softened even more. "I'm your dream."

"I do not think I could have dreamed you up..." she whispered before she realized what she was saying. He laughed softly and released her hand, which she snapped back to her side. She took an uncomfortable step away from him and cleared her throat. "You want me to bring them here. How? If this is a dream, how can I bring something from the physical world here?"

He pointed to Kahn. "You brought your monkey here," he observed. Raaja instinctively reached up to Kahn in a protective gesture and tiny monkey hands gripped her fingers.

"Kahn goes with me everywhere—dreams, planes, elemental dimensions, the void."

"A good friend."

"My best friend."

"It will be the same with my collected fragments. They will pass into this realm with you. Do not worry."

"And how do I get back to you?"

"Simply go to sleep..." he answered, gently touching her temple with two fingertips. She flinched back.

"Will you always be there when I go to sleep?"

"Would you like me to be?"

Raaja hesitated too long in answering and he chuckled again. She flushed in embarrassment.

"I'll be back," she said crisply, turning away. "So don't get too comfortable."

"I'll be waiting, Raaja. Good luck... and safe travels."

The world began to slip away. She glanced back but Thumore was already fading with the fog. The world went dark...

And she woke up.

The Erudite was gaping at her in shock. As she slowly sat up, she realized she had failed to ask him the most important question: where to start?

"You're awake!" the Erudite exclaimed in joy. "You're alive!"

"I'm a novice all over again," she groaned and buried her face in her hands.


	2. The Second Dream

**Steelday, Deepice 4, 3828**

Raaja recognized the mystically foggy realm of night instantly even though her eyes had not seen it for two months. She had slept and dreamt and woken but not once had she returned to Thumore's realm—not until that night. She was sitting on the nondescript floor and Kahn was next to her with a small hand on her knee. She reached down and clutched his hand between her index and thumb then gave him a smile.

"We're back," she said musically. He hopped up and down twice and let out a monkey screech.

Raaja got to her feet and moved forward into the nothingness as Kahn leapt onto her shoulder and they melded with the fog. This time, they walked much longer in the haze—at least an hour—before stumbling across another sign of life. She was just starting to think there was nothing out there when she saw a glow in the fog. She pressed closer and came upon a campfire.

Thumore D'armer was crouched next to it, poking at the embers with a stick as he rearranged the burning wood.

"Where are you?" he asked without looking up. Raaja tilted her head and watched him stoke the fire. "I feel strange," he explained in the wake of her silence, reaching for a log. He threw it on the glowing embers in the space he had cleared. "What land have you come to?"

His blue eyes met hers as he finally looked up. A red glow was dancing on one side of his face, casting the other half in shadow. The light brought out the vibrancy of his red-orange hair.

"To my homeland," she replied. "The deserts of Ro."

"I see," he murmured thoughtfully as Kahn jumped off her shoulder, scampered over to the fire pit, and held his hands out to warm them. "Hello," Thumore greeted the small creature. He tried to ruffle the white fur but Kahn jumped to the side, dodging the touch. Thumore looked at Raaja, his eyes wondering at the primate's reaction.

"Beware of strangers," she teased, wiggling her fingers spookily as she came to sit next to him.

"But I'm no stranger, am I?" he asked, barely hiding the grin trying to form, "being the man of your dreams—"

"Stop!" Raaja exclaimed. "You didn't. That was awful. I can't believe you actually said it."

"It was hard to resist."

"Yeah, of course it was." She laughed. "You sound like Terrakor."

"And who might that be?"

Raaja narrowed her gaze on him and smirked. "Shouldn't you know, being inside my dreams?"

"So you dream about him, then?"

"You know what I meant," she said. He gave her a look, eyebrows raised and lips pulled into a grin. "It's not like that. He's my guild leader," she explained, "my captain, and my friend. Terrible with puns, but I wouldn't say I dream about him." She picked up the stick and idly poked at the fire.

"What do you dream about, milady?"

She flicked her gaze at him. "Apparently crazy Human men who lose themselves and need help retrieving them again. Do I have a sign on my back that says 'Norrathian Help Service' or something? I swear, everyone I meet is in need of assistance."

He chuckled and relaxed out of his crouch to sit next to her. "You are from Ro?" he asked and she nodded. "From a particular tribe or..."

"I'm Maji," she explained, "though Dervish by blood. Our ancestors were the Dervish desert thieves, but we're all a civilized lot now—all citizens of Maj'Dul."

"Mmm, I know the place. It is a beautiful city... Dangerous, but beautiful."

There was a beat of silence as they stared into the flames licking at the new log. Kahn looked at them, blinked a few times, decided they were boring, and began playing with the kindling.

"And what about the Elven blood?"

Raaja looked just in time to see his hand coming at her. She felt his fingertips tracing the pointed tip of her ear, her Half Elven heritage poking out from her auburn red hair.

"My mother," she answered as he withdrew his hand. "I never knew her. My father used to say she was the most beautiful creature on Norrath, but her heart was too frozen to thaw. He asked her to grant him a child. She had two. She decided to keep my sister, and my father whisked me back to the Southern deserts where he raised me. He always spoke fondly of her. I'm sure he loved her very much."

"They chose not to stay together?" he asked. His confusion sounded genuine. Raaja studied his blue eyes, noted how they looked darker against the bouncing light of the fire.

"No," she said bluntly. "I'm sure he would have asked her to go with him if he thought she might. I'm sure he would've stayed if she had asked him to."

"Why didn't she?"

Raaja's eyes narrowed, annoyance budding at the prying questions. "Why are you trapped here?" she asked, leaning forward in earnest, her right palm flat on the ground. "How did you lose the fragments of yourself?"

He kept silent. Kahn, bored of the kindling, returned to his friend and hopped into her lap. His black eyes stared sleepily into hers so she scooped him up with her free arm. He nuzzled her neck and rested on her shoulder. Thumore took the moment to add another log to the fire.

"You're very close," he finally said, "though I'm not sure exactly where it resides. I just feel... closer to myself right now."

"The fragment is somewhere on Ro," she concluded and he nodded. "I will find it. But… I'm not sure how long it will be until then."

"I have faith."

"No," she laughed, "you have no choice. Do you?"

He shrugged in agreement. "I admit, you are the only coherent being I've met in many and long years." He stared at her thoughtfully as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back in relaxation. "You should sleep," he said quietly. The thought to lie down had already crept into her head. "You don't want to stay here too long."

"Why?" she asked as she flattened on the ground, eyes still closed. She heard Kahn's shallow breathing in her ear and felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her shoulder. The flames in the fire pit crackled and popped. Thumore never answered her. She quickly drifted off to sleep.


	3. A Memory of Sand

**Moorday, Deepice 6, 3828**

Raaja walked through the gates of Maj'Dul and smiled in the warmth of the sun. All of her friends were stuck spending the peak of the icy month in chilling climates, but she was going to relax with the warmth of spring as sea breezes blew in from the east.

She strode past the market and the Library of Light, climbed the stairway to the next tier of the city, and inhaled the wind that blew the sun into her face. Taria Truomen laughed at her from across the way and waved, welcoming her home. Raaja smiled and waved back, taking a step toward her.

Something made her stop.

She glanced around, feeling a pull in her gut. Her eyes landed on the Tower of the Moon. It stood stark against the blue sky, climbing high toward the clouds, and its sturdy walls seemed to pulse with a strange power. She was being summoned.

**Feastday, Deepice 9, 3828**

When night fell, Raaja crept through the streets without torch light, slipping in and out of shadows until she arrived at her destination. The door to the Tower glowed in lamp light. She approached cautiously, ducking into the shadows as guards clacked by. When they were gone, she took hold of the ring and yanked. The door opened with a grinding crank.

The Court consuls were still up, busy at their work as though the day was just starting. As she entered, they turned to toward their guest. But as they did, their faces became a blur and the world around her bled away. Raaja shut her eyes tight, shook my head, and then opened them again.

She immediately jumped to the side to avoid the swing of a shriveled mummy. Kahn leapt from her shoulder and clasped onto a golden pole on the staircase banister that spiraled up to the second floor, screeching wildly.

Raaja kept moving, keeping out of reach of three mummies hobbling after her. Her eyes scoured the room for something she could use as a weapon. Hers had been left at home. In a few swift moves, she crossed the room and hopped onto the consuls' table, snatching up a letter opener. She immediately spun, kicking the first mummy in the jaw and knocking him off balance. She grabbed him by the wraps and yanked him down into the candles then used his head as a stepping stone into battle as he lit up in flames.

The next two creatures came quickly. She darted past swinging arms and ripped the letter opener across the second creature s eyes, finishing him with another quick slice to the throat. She ducked under flailing limbs and spun to the monster's back, planting the blade deep into his rotting spine. She kicked the last mummy away as she struggled to free the letter opener but it was embedded too deep.

Raaja faced her last attacker weaponless. He came at her with the same reckless abandon his companions had and she charged him. She rammed into his chest and, using the momentum, hoisted him into the air and flipped him into the burning heap of his charred friend.

She wrinkled her nose as the smell caught up to her and skipped over to the staircase, eager to move on. The white fur ball leapt onto her shoulder and they quickly climbed to the second floor. There was something odd about this place, she thought, but she didn't have time to work it out in her mind. They were met with another round of opponents: djinn bodyguards.

Raaja's jaw tightened in anticipation for the fight, surrounded with nothing but books, parchment, and ink wells. But she did not need weapons to fight them. She opened her mouth and let loose a belt of deadly notes imbued with magic, twisting their lucid forms into glittering, smoking heaps. They shriveled up into tiny wisps.

When they reached the observatory that held the giant telescope of the star watchers, she saw it—the thing that had disrupted her rest since arriving on Ro, the thing she had been tasked with retrieving. A shard. Pulling at her. Calling to her. It was there on the floor, as if nothing more than a worthless trinket carelessly knocked to the ground.

Raaja started toward it but stopped when she heard a faint hissing sound. She went very still and listened. The hiss came again, this time with the sound of slithering. She cautiously turned. Two iron-plated naga were rearing back, looming over her and ready to strike.

Raaja dove one way and Kahn went the other just as one of the naga struck. Her face smashed into the tiles as her sister hissed and lunged after the Half-Elf. Out of the corner of her eye, Raaja noticed Kahn screaming at the other snake creature as she recovered, scaling the bookshelves and leaping from shelf to column. The naga angrily chased after him.

Raaja leapt through the rear gear of the telescope and the naga came after her but the opening was too small for her. She was caught only a moment, but it was long enough to spring a trap. Raaja kicked off of the crest on the naga's head and took hold of the crank shaft, yanking it down. As her feet touched the ground, the gears turned, the telescope shifted, and the naga was wrenched in half.

She howled as she was sundered, drawing her sister's furious gaze. Raaja backed up as she approached, hands groping for anything she use as a weapon. She bumped a candlestick as the naga swooped down to strike. Raaja snatched it up and rammed it into her throat. She gagged and heaved, tail swinging wildly as she flopped around the room like a fish out of water.

As the body writhed in the final moments of death, Raaja inched toward the glowing shard lying next to a harp with copper strings and a turquoise shell frame. She ran her fingers along the strings, gently plucking one, two, then three in the makings of a fine melody as she pondered the shard on the floor. She played as she stared, music stirring her thoughts.

The fragment of the mysterious Thumore D'armer was calling out to her in silence.

Raaja knelt down and gently scooped it up. Kahn peered at it from over her shoulder.

"What are you," she whispered, "to be so closely guarded?"

The world warped again and everything returned to normal. In place of naga corpses, there were researchers and Court consuls peering at her. That's when she realized what had been so strange. In the vision world, the carpets had been newer, telescope freshly painted, books fewer—like the Tower from an older time.

The vision wasn't dreamlike at all. It was like living someone else's memory.


	4. The Third Dream

**Darkday, Deepice 10, 3828**

Raaja did not have to look for Thumore D'armer when she awoke in the dream world he inhabited. The moment her eyes opened, they met his ocean blues no more than a few feet away. The fog was thick around them, as always, but he was close enough to see clearly. She took a step toward him and he, too, came forward.

"Kahn?" she called and the small monkey hopped onto her shoulder, grasping the fragment. He handed it to her. "Well..." she began, "here you go..."

Thumore gently took the shard. The moment the crystal touched his fingers, the fragment melted into his flesh and his body was washed in a white glow. Raaja squinted against the pulse of light and raised her arm to shield her eyes but, as quickly as it had come, it faded and was gone.

She waited anxiously for his words—an explanation of some kind—but he just stood there. She opened her mouth to prompt him but his sudden grin silenced her.

"That is much better," he said quietly. Raaja sighed in relief. "Where was it?"

"The Tower of the Moon in Maj'Dul," she told him. "Speaking of which, you never said anything about it being guarded!"

"Guarded?" he echoed with a frown. His surprise was genuine.

"I—somehow—entered another reality inside the Tower. But I was attacked, and it was real. The moment I grasped your fragment, this altered reality went away, went away with the creatures I killed to get it."

"Perhaps my fragments are locked away in other dreams."

"I don't think these are dreams. I wasn't asleep."

"Oh?"

"It was more like a memory than a dream," she said, narrowing her gaze on him. Sensing her suspicions, Kahn affectionately pressed the top of his head to her temple. Whatever she was hoping to glean, however, was met with the shaking of his head.

"There are more pieces of me out there," he said. "I won't know more until I get them."

"Guarded as well, no doubt."

"No doubt," he agreed. Raaja sighed and gave up trying to tease answers from him.

"My coming upon the first fragment was pure chance, D'armer. Do you have any idea where the other fragments may be hidden? Even the tiniest clue is better than blind chance."

"With the first fragment within me once again, my mind and heart see new things... a palace in the sky."

She waited for more but nothing came. "...That's it?"

He shrugged. "There's nothing more."

"There must be hundreds of palaces on Norrath put against the sky." She paused in thought. "Of course, if it's literally in the sky, that narrows the search. But how many floating castles have you come across?"

"I suppose... if it's Gnomish..." He smiled. Raaja bit her lower lip to keep from smiling back. It was amusing but she couldn't let him know that, not when he was making an already difficult task harder with ambiguity.

Raaja turned her back to him and began stretching.

"I'll find no shards standing around here," she said, but he caught her arm before she could entertain any thoughts of waking up.

"I heard something," he said. She turned back to face him and his close proximity caused a strange heat begin to rise inside of her. She tried to pull away but he held tighter, so she gave in and listened carefully.

"I don't hear anything..." she mumbled, still awkwardly aware of his hand still gripping her arm. Kahn reached down and tried to pry Thumore's fingers off.

"I meant while you were retrieving the first fragment. It sounded like music."

"I'm a bard," she explained, thinking back to the incident. "There was a harp, also. I plucked a few strings, nothing more."

"It was very faint, and only lasted a moment, but it came through to me. It was beautiful, if I heard correctly."

Raaja laughed. "I hope you heard correctly, for my sake."

Kahn was still trying to pry Thumore's fingers off of her arm so he released her with a chuckle. Kahn wrapped his legs and one arm around her bicep and his other arm clutched tightly to her shirt. She patted his fuzzy head and he nuzzled his face against her skin.

"He's very protective of you," he said.

"We've been together since I was a child," Raaja explained. Thumore motioned for her to walk with him as she talked and they set off. "I was raised in the city of Maj'Dul. One day, I was being chased by some… shady characters… and I managed to evade them on the Highway. I—"

"Highway?"

"Street talk for roof-running. It's like a second street up there," she explained. "I ducked into some baskets and hoped I'd lost them. I hadn't. When they came too close to my hiding place, Kahn leapt out of hiding and startled them. They assumed he was just a distracted and went off elsewhere. He followed me home and we've been inseparable since."

Thumore glanced over at Kahn and found him staring. The moment their eyes met, Kahn hid his face against Raaja's arm.

"You mentioned a guild."

"Bloodsworn," she said. "I've been with them a while now. They're my family."

He suddenly stopped and tilted his head, brows furrowed in curiosity. "What happened to your real family?" he asked. Raaja narrowed her gaze on him.

"Why are you so curious about who I am?" she quietly demanded. "This doesn't normally go this way."

"This?"

"This. Yeah. You know. Questing. You have a problem you can't possibly solve on your own. I offer to help. You send me into imminent danger and I eventually return successful. Mission complete. We go our separate ways."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"No, I've done this a lot," she corrected. He held up his hands in surrender.

"I'm trapped here, and you're the only soul I have to talk to. Is it so wrong to want some company?"

Raaja lowered her gaze, embarrassed. Guilt ripped through her. "Well," she began numbly then cleared her throat and turned around. "We need to get you out of here. We can't do that without those fragments. I'll be back when I find one."

"I'll be expecting you. Be safe, Raaja."

She resisted looking back and walked away until she woke up.


	5. Lost In Thought

**Spryday, Stargazing 16, 3828**

Raaja strode out of the guild hall and into the yard. The second week of the Growth season brought many days of sunshine and today was one of those wonderful days. She plopped down into the grass next to the sleeping cat Spin and pulled open the small, cloth sack that held the lunch she'd swiped from the kitchen. Deveryn was off somewhere doing something necromancer-like and she hadn't seen Nathamouse since before she'd left to spend the rest of Decay in Maj'Dul, which meant she was stuck stealing food from the hall.

Solusek's fiery truth: Raaja couldn't be trusted near a stove.

She sank her teeth into the vulrich sandwich and bit off a large chunk, chewed about five times, and swallowed it mostly whole. Her mind was focused elsewhere. A palace in the sky, she thought, as if repeating the words in her mind a thousand times would bring on a new revelation. She thought again of the Shimmering Citadel, but quickly reminded herself that she had sensed no other shard on Ro.

Raaja sighed as she finished her sandwich and moved on to the carrot muffins, picking angrily at the raisins. _What palace in the sky?_ she thought in frustration. _And who the hell put raisins in a carrot muffin?_

"What are you doing out here looking so angry on a beautiful day?" asked a familiar voice. She glanced up and was nearly blinded as fellow troubador, Maji, and guild mate Jalrar came to stand in front of her. He wore a tunic and pants a bright shade of sunflower and a hat to match with a stark red feather pluming out the side of it.

"What are you wearing?" she asked. He looked confused.

"Clothes?"

"You're very yellow today."

"I thought I'd honor the fine weather," he explained with a charmingly bardish grin. Her gaze dropped to his feet.

"You're wearing yellow boots."

"Have to have a complete ensemble. Anyway, you never answered my question. Why are you so mad?"

"...Your boots are yellow."

He cleared his throat. "Aye. Moving on..."

"Who actually makes yellow boots—"

"Okay!" Jalrar exclaimed, plopping down in front of her. "I get it. You don't like my shoes. What's going on with you?"

She shrugged and threw another raisin into the yard. She felt his eyes on her and shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking about some things. That's all."

"What things? Maybe I could help."

"Have you ever heard of a palace in the sky?"

He thought a moment. "Is it Gnomish?"

Raaja sighed and popped the muffin in her mouth. After a few seconds of chewing, she peered at her yellow friend. He smiled encouragingly, so she put her lunch down and brushed her hands together.

"Come at me," she said as she stood up. He looked uncomfortably confused.

"Do what?" he asked, slowly standing. She motioned for him to come closer but he wouldn't budge.

"Come at me," she repeated. "We're going to do some role-playing here."

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, increasingly confused and discomfited. "Are you disturbed?" he whispered with a concerned frown.

"No more than usual," she replied. "Now, I'm going to walk by and you're going to hail me, tell me of your troubles, and send me on a quest, alright?" He just stared at her like he wanted to run away and scream for help. "Okay, good." She hopped several steps back, counted to three, and walked past him. His head followed her movement. When he didn't hail her, she walked by him again. Nothing. She smacked him on the arm. "You're supposed to hail me!"

"I've read about this before," he mumbled, "in early lessons years ago. There's an extended study on it. I think we have a copy somewhere in the guild hall."

"A copy of what?"

"Misadventure: When Questing Goes Wrong - A Psychological Study of the Effects of Questing on Adventurers."

Raaja groaned. "I'm not sick or insane. Just humor me a minute, will you?"

Jalrar shrugged. "Okay," he said under his breath, "but that's only going to make the problem worse..." He cleared his throat and prepared for his role. This time when she walked by him, he hailed her. "Hail, adventurer. I've no time to talk but listen to my woes. I was on a ship and a giant storm came out of nowhere, destroyed every last possession I own, and scattered my priceless barley leaves to the wind."

"Wow, that sounds really accurate," she whispered. He offered a quick grin and got back into character. "How can I help?"

"I need you to sail all over Norrath and find every single tiny, teensy-weensy, microscopic ounce of my barley."

"Really accurate..."

"Do you accept?"

"Sure, I'll return with your barely," she promised and then walked ten paces away. She turned to look at him and he shrugged. "Okay, okay. My turn. You come at me and I'll give you a quest."

"Raaja..."

"Just do it. I swear, I'm going somewhere with this. Just... come on, just try it."

He sighed and crossed to her. "Hail," he said.

"Hail, Banana Man. I am in need of the services of such a fruit as you."

"That is not funny."

"All of my monkeys escaped and I need you to run out into the woods, dance around, and collect them into these cages as they spring out of the bushes and try to eat you."

"Now you're playing with my emotions."

"Do you accept?"

"I hate you. Yes."

"Good!" she chirped. As he turned to walk away, she reached out and stopped him. "Tell me about your father..."

He frowned. "I've already told you about him."

Raaja made a face. "What?"

"I thought we were role-playing and now you're asking me about my dad?"

"That's part of the problem."

"What problem?"

"Exactly. Thanks, though. You've been a big help." She stretched from side to side. At least she knew she wasn't the only one who found it strange. As she bent backwards in the stretch and stared up at the sky, she saw it was a gorgeous pink and completely bare. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

"Oh, Solusek's Flame. I'm so stupid," she muttered. "That's it."

"What is?"

"The Barren Sky," she exclaimed and rushed toward the spire. Jalrar bolted after her.


	6. A Memory of Sky

**Soulday, Stargazing 23, 3828**

Raaja held her face in her hands and groaned as Jalrar loomed over her. Kahn munched on celery.

"We've been asking around for days," Jalrar said. "The palaces that are here certainly count but you say they aren't right."

"I feel nothing here," she reiterated. "But I don't understand. It made perfect sense."

He shrugged one shoulder, squinting against the sun. "Well, what about the other Sky Kingdoms?"

"The other..." She lifted her gaze. "Bonemire. Doesn't the Bonemire have some sort of palace or... or stronghold or something?"

"Sure."

"Perfect," she clapped him on the shoulder as she walked past. "Let's go."

**Windday, Stargazing 24, 3828**

Jalrar and Raaja crept away from the Cloud station, passed the skeleton pile, and inched around the corner with their backs pressed to the cliffside. The Bonemire was a purple-glowing danger zone and the Doomwing droag had excavators with their dragonspawn guardians all over the deadly Halls of Fate, mining for who knew what.

She could already sense the fragment and knew, without a doubt, it was within those black walls. The Halls of Fate was suspended on a floating hunk of rock with giant chain bridges spanning across bottomless drops connecting it to other islands. A palace in the sky.

"How are you going to get there? There are droag everywhere..." Jalrar whispered. She bit her lip, mentally grasping for a plan that didn't end in sudden death. She spun to face him.

"I'm going to run it."

"Run it?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm gonna train the whole thing."

"What happens once you get inside? Won't they chase you? Or worse: be inside?"

Raaja frowned and peered around the corner again. "Details. You don't need to wait for me. Just see if you can't run these guys off and then get the hell of here."

"I don't like this plan, Raaja," he growled and took hold of her arm. "You may not come out of there alive."

Too late.

She ripped her arm from his grasp and charged, jumping into the center of the excavators. Kahn held tightly to her shoulder. The Ayonic Axe and Marrow's Song flashed in her hands as she cut through the nearest drake wing and sliced open the throat of an advancing droag. Jalrar came in behind her, weapons in hand, and drew their attention.

Raaja ran down the path and circled around a stone column, kicking a droag in the face as he followed. She jumped to the support arm of the bridge and swung around, boot connecting with his chest. His wing caught a screw and tore as he stumbled over the side of the cliff. She dropped down and ran up the ramp, stopping at the crest of the bridge.

The wind rushed up at her, whipping her red hair around her face, and the black void peppered with sparkling stars stared up at her from below. The narrow bridge dropped straight down and curved slightly up to the other side.

"Go!" Jalrar screamed, fighting bravely behind her. A sentry swooped down to grab her and she jumped out, barely missing his lunge. She thought the wind might blow her right over the bridge and into the blackness… but her feet touched metal and she surged forward, stumbling the first few steps in the momentum. She jumped again to dodge projectiles and sprinted up onto the next island.

She raced up to the Halls, ducking Doomwing marauders and agents as they desperately tried to stop her, but she was too fast for them. She vaulted over a bone-spike stair guard and landed on the walkway, ducked under the agents guarding the entrance, and leapt down a full flight of stairs to a stone door.

It heaved open against her weight and snapped shut behind her.

Raaja could feel the fragment calling to her as the dream-like whirlwind transformed reality like it had in the Tower of the Moon. The Doomwing soldiers standing guard seemed less menacing under the summons of the fragment.

Her Elven eyes saw a straight shot and so she took it, running full speed ahead with Kahn clamped onto her shoulder. The droag roared, flapping their leathery wings as they riled up. She slid under two sets of patrollers and was back on her feet. The hall opened up and a bridge extended to a circular platform. She cleared the arch, never losing momentum, and jumped without hesitation.

A drake's claws caught her tattered cloak, knocking her into the spiraling steps winding along the wall. She grunted and rolled until she found her footing and drew her weapons. She sliced through the droag ranks as they came, killing few but wounding many. She didn't need to kill them. She just needed to get the fragment and survive long enough to evacuate.

When she reached the bottom, she took the only door out and could see the fragment at the end of the hall, glowing, waiting to be plucked. Dozens of droag packed the tunnel, clogging the path between her and victory.

Raaja sheathed her weapons and cleared her throat. She lifted her chin and sang, and the Maestro's Perfection resonated in the Halls, bouncing off the walls, echoing, and vibrating throughout her entire body. As she charged, agonizing songs came to her lips. It was enough to shock the soldiers and raiders, throwing them out of the way if only for just a moment.

She dodged the bodies as they whipped from side to side in their temporal anguish, but she couldn't escape the sharp talons on their wings that scraped against her armor and ripped into her flesh. She bit back the sting. The shard was just a few feet away.

Raaja uttered one word as she slid into the room—a spell of escape. A tailspike caught her in the face as she scooped up the shard and pulled it into her chest.

The world exploded in blue light and the room vanished.

Back at the entrance of the Hall of Fate, she tucked the shard into my bag, took a second to catch her breath, and slipped out of the palace. The run back to Cloud station was quick with plenty of enemies were on her tail.

Jalrar leapt up as he saw her coming.

"Run!" she screamed.

He immediately hopped onto the cloud and reached out to her as it lifted off. She stumbled onto the platform and jumped, grabbing his outstretched hand. They flew up into the air as he pulled her up, heading for the Drednever Crash Site. The droag disappeared behind them in the evernight.


	7. The Fourth Dream

**Windday, Stargazing 24, 3828**

The unnatural dream world was becoming as real and natural to Raaja as her day to day reality. The foggy realm of eternal night was like any other place she would visit—the guild hall, Freeport, her home. She found Thumore's camp quickly. He smiled as she approached and stood to greet her.

"Raaja—"

"I have it," she said excitedly, answering his silent question. She pulled it from her pouch. He touched her hands gently to calm her.

"I know..." he said quietly, still smiling. She unfurled her fingers to show him the shard and he took it. Just like before, it melted into his flesh and a white glow momentarily blinded her. The excitement of success faded with the light of the shard and they stood there awkwardly, except for Kahn, who was noisily munching on a nut.

Thumore turned and went back to his campfire. "I suspect you have things to do," he remarked, crouching next to the flames. The animal roasting over the fire looked nearly done.

Raaja slowly approached, cleared her throat, and avoided looking directly at him. "My real family?" she began. "I never knew my mother. I have no idea if she's alive or dead. My father passed away years ago of old age. And my sister... well, Sethri and I rarely see one another these days. Times are not good and she needed to go away for awhile."

She knew her words had wounded him at their last meeting. Perhaps the explanation was penance for it, perhaps just an answer to his question. When she met his smiling eyes, she thought it might have been a bit of both. Thumore motioned with his head to join him so she slipped her tattered cloak off and sat next to him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he cut off a piece of meat and offered it to her. She accepted and groaned at the divine taste, but before she could comment he dropped the knife and gently grabbed her chin. "What happened?" he exclaimed, brushing the hair from her face. The gash from the tail spike was healing but still raw.

"You should see the other guy," she joked. He gave her a disapproving look so she swallowed her jests and answered him seriously. "I told you the fragments were guarded."

Thumore withdrew his hands, wearing an expression akin to regret. "You do me a great service, Raaja. I'm sorry I have to trouble you with this."

"Well, if we're being honest, your task is nothing compared to others I've done. So, you know, don't beat yourself up over it." She pushed her fingers into her hair. "At least this makes sense... sort of."

"Where was it found?"

Raaja's eyes sparkled in amusement. "It was in the Bonemire, hiding within the Halls of Fate."

He smiled and pulled the roasting pike from fire and secured it in the ground. Carefully, he cut and cleaned the animal.

"Tell me about yourself," Raaja prompted, crossing her ankles and tucking her feet under her thighs. Thumore continued to work without saying a word. "You answer none of my questions. Why?"

He sighed and glanced at her. There was something sad swimming in those blue eyes. "There is not much I can tell."

"Which part is it?" she asked. "The 'not much' or the 'can't tell'?"

He laughed as he put some meat and bread on a plate then passed it to her. "That's very smart," he said with a smirk. Raaja rolled her eyes and passed Kahn half the heel of bread.

By the end of dinner, he'd had Raaja recount many of her adventures, continuously prying into her past and always pressing when she was reluctant to give up certain details. She never noticed the passage of time. Time seemed stopped.

"So you did have a love once," Thumore concluded as she finished recounting her first adventure across Faydwer.

"The point was not my company," Raaja said, pausing to take a sip of wine. "The point was that the Faydark is terrifying."

"A few giant mushrooms and glowing flowers is enough to scare my fearless bard?"

"It's like some nightmare," she muttered. "Nothing like what I've read about from the Age of Turmoil..."

"What was his name?" Thumore wanted to know. Raaja's gaze dropped to the ground.

"Garrett," she replied quietly. "Before you can ask, he's nowhere. He's dead. There was an incident and he didn't make it." She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and sipped the red wine to help it down.

Thumore tilted his head to the side, a sorrowful expression defining his features. "Are you...?"

"It was a long time ago. The pain never goes away but I've learned to live with it. What matters to me now is a future, one I hope to fill with happiness."

She instinctively brushed Kahn's sleeping form, stroking his head and back. He twitched once but never woke up. Thumore stirred to put more wood on the fire.

"What about your parents?" he asked. "Why didn't they stay together?"

Raaja shrugged one shoulder and watched the sparks fly from the embers as the new log was tossed into the pit.

"I imagine because... she was Elven and he was Human."

"That's a reason not to be together?"

"To many people," she nodded, "it is. It can be hard for mortal and immortal creatures to understand one another. And there's the pain of separation."

"And what about you, Half Elf?" he asked, tilting his head toward her. "You're not immortal, are you?"

"You're Human."

"I'm more than I seem."

Raaja knew he was right. She felt it. She stared into his blue eyes, his gentle face surrounded by red-orange hair, and knew deep within that he was so much more than he seemed. There was no other soul like him.

"I do regret asking this of you, Raaja..." he said quietly. "Your life is in great danger because of it."

"If that's what you're worried about, don't. I face danger every day—"

"Even being here," he interrupted her. "If you stay here too long, you will forget how to wake up. Already two days have passed since you came." Raaja tensed in shock. Thumore reached out and gently caressed her cheek. "Go to sleep..." he whispered. She instantly felt drowsy. He caught her as she sank to the ground.

The world went dark.


	8. Visiting Sister

**Darkday, Weeping 3, 3828**

Raaja knocked hard on the swollen wooden door. It had been raining all week in the Thundering Steppes and the Thundermist Village looked entirely misshapen due to all of the moisture it was soaking up. The door creaked open and a pair of green eyes framed by dark red hair peered out at her.

"Raaja?" Sethri exclaimed. She waved with her free hand, the other holding a decrepit tin shield over her head to block the rain, which was pointless since she was already soaked from head to toe.

"Evenin'," she said with a sour expression. Sethri pulled her inside and slammed the door.

After a warm bath and a change of clothes, Raaja and her sister sat down in front of a blazing fire and sipped hot tea.

"It's so cold up here," Raaja commented as a chill crept up her spine. Sethri grinned at her from over the rim of her cup.

"The mountains of the Thundering Steppes are never very warm," she explained, "especially during the first months of Growth when the sun hasn't quite warmed up the highlands. The rains make it hard to knock the chill off the land."

"Ah..." Raaja took a deep sip of tea that burned all the way down, warming her from the inside.

"What brings you out here?" her sister asked.

A small noise from the back of the house interrupted them. They looked across the room to see a small pair of eyes peeping at them. Sethri waved the tiny creature off, uttering in Ayr'dal. The tiny Half Elf quickly disappeared. Raaja smiled at her sister and, even though she rolled her eyes, she was smiling, too.

"It's been over a year," Raaja told her. "I wanted to see you. How are things?"

"Good," she replied, "busy, and sometimes trying... but good. I—" A knock on the door cut her off. "Oh, what now?" she mumbled as she got up to answer it. A young, blonde man was standing in the rain. He looked cold, like he was trying not to shiver in his armor.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he asked. "I saw a stranger sneaking around your house and I—"

Sethri opened the door wider to show him the stranger sitting on her couch. "My sister's visiting," she explained. He flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. Pardon me for troubling you." He bowed his head and hurried off. When Sethri came back to the couch, Raaja gently elbowed her in the arm.

"Eh?"

She chuckled. "That would be Defender Captain Eivhan," she told her. "He's taken a liking to me and it's more than just a neighborly mindset that has him knocking. He makes it his personal job to ensure I'm not bothered by anyone. Sweet, but too young."

They had a good laugh over it and then burned the midnight oil swapping stories about Sethri's life at Thundermist Village and Raaja's in Bloodsworn.

**Burnday, Weeping 4, 3828**

The smell of breakfast cooking on the stove woke Raaja from her slumber on the couch. She tightened the blanket around her shoulders and wandered into the kitchen.

"Smells good..." she mumbled under a yawn.

"Breakfast for lunch," Sethri announced, scooping scrambled eggs onto two plates already full of bacon, potatoes, and fluffy biscuits. They sat down at the table with cups of milk and began eating.

"Where's—" Raaja started to ask, remembering the child from the previous night.

"At a neighbor's," Sethri replied, eyeing her sister. She did a double-take. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Aye. Why?"

"You look so tired, so pale. I thought it was the rain and travel but you've had a full night's rest and you still look haggard."

Raaja shrugged. "I feel fine."

"Do you?" she asked with her scrutinizing eyes. "Have you been?"

Raaja could only nod.

After breakfast, they had coffee and Raaja perused Sethri's latest book as her sister went through the pile of unread letters she had delivered that had been stacking up in her mailbox back in Freeport.

"This is very good, Seth," she told her, closing the latest volume. She smiled and looked up from a letter.

"You like it?"

"I do. I love reading about mom. It makes me feel a little closer to her. Sometimes, I can almost see her clearly in my mind."

Sethri scooted closer and laid her head on her sister's shoulder. They sat like that for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Sethri was thinking of the past. Raaja, however, was thinking only of the future... one where she would see Thumore D'armer again.

**Soulday, Weeping 15, 3828**

Raaja slowly stirred on the couch. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sethri looming over her with a deep frown. She rubbed my eyes and blinked until her sister came into focus.

"What's the matter?"

"What's going on?" Sethri demanded, concern etched into the lines of her face. "I've watched you walk up and down this house for a week and not get an ounce better, but worse! I've tried healing songs while you slept. I slipped rejuvenating herbs in your tea. Nothing is working." Raaja drew back in surprise when she suddenly hugged her. "Tell me what's wrong!"

Raaja sighed, placing a comforting hand on her sister's back. "All right," she whispered. "I'll tell you." Sethri drew back and passed her a cup of coffee that had been waiting for her. She took a sip as she tried to think of where to start. "I met someone," she finally began. In an hour, Raaja had recounted to her all that had gone on since she had met the man in her dreams. "And I'm not sure where to look for the next fragment. I see no connection between the Tower of the Moon and the Halls of Fate."

Sethri leaned back onto the couch to relax and think, a cup of tea nestled between her hands. "Maj'Dul and the Overrealm," she mumbled thoughtfully. "But with your condition, I'd say you've been haunting the Unrest Estate." She laughed at her own joke. "Forget the work for a minute. I'd like to know more about this Human. What are your feelings there?"

Raaja blushed, jaw bobbing wordlessly as she thought of how to answer. "I... feel my chest tighten... whenever I think about him," she stammered. Sethri smiled.

"How very honest," she whispered.

The next day, Raaja left the Thundering Steppes.


	9. A Memory of Echoes

**Darkday, Weeping 32, 3828**

Raaja stood before the Estate of Unrest, clenching and unclenching her fists. Perhaps Sethri had been right. The moment she had touched down on Butcherblock Docks, she had felt the pull of a third shard somewhere on Faydwer. Perhaps she had been right about something else, too. Raaja was slowly getting worse. Her insides felt jumbled and her head throbbed.

Raaja wiped the sweat from her cold and clammy brow. The wind blew gently from the sea and she shivered. Eerie whispers from the ghostly estate teased her ears. Kahn whimpered. She swallowed to wet her dry throat and pushed inside the gate.

The stone gargoyles fluttering above her head disappeared as the Estate warped into the dream world. She took the dirt-covered stone path, suddenly aware of the emptiness around her. The courtyard fountain no longer ran and the hedges had grown high and wild. Crows cawed from a place she couldn't see. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to feel the shard.

The clicking of hooves grew louder than the crows' cawing and her eyes shot open. She shuffled backward and rolled, barely missing the satyr's charging horns. She dodged another charge, stumbling, and quickly drew Ayonic Axe as the satyr came back around. His horns connected with the axehead and sent Raaja sliding backward. She gritted her teeth, dug her heels into the dirt, and pushed him back in a battle of strength she wasn't sure she could win.

She slipped Marrow's Song from its home on her hip and pierced the creature's chest. He screamed and rammed her in fury, knocking her backward. She dropped to her back and kicked up, flipping him over her head. She scrambled to her feet as he quickly recovered and swung out with her axe as she rolled out of the way of his charge, slashing his throat open as he passed. He crashed to the ground, blood pooling quickly beneath him.

Raaja took deep, gasping breaths, baffled by her exhaustion. She didn't have long to contemplate it. Kahn began shrieking and bouncing frantically on the fountain crest, pointing. Before she could turn, something struck her in the back, ripping a scream from her as she flew forward and hit the dirt. Raaja scrambled over and kicked at the dirt to put her back against the rocky cliff surrounding the estate. A second satyr was snorting and scratching the ground, preparing to charge again.

Raaja gulped for air and waited, saving her strength. And then he charged. Kahn was screaming. Crows were screeching. Raaja braced herself. When he was just a few feet away, she rolled to the side. His head smashed into the rock at top speed. A loud crack echoed around the canyon and he reared back, shrieking and flailing, his skull split open. Raaja screamed and rammed her rapier through his heart, and the only noise left in the valley was that of the crows.

Limping, Raaja wiped the sweat from her brow and advanced through the yard. Kahn jumped onto her shoulder and they followed the hoof tracks around the left side of the hedge maze. As they came around the corner, Raaja stopped dead in her tracks. Snarls and grunts quickly became loud growls as she looked out over a field of kobolds and watched their heads turn to stare at her. Their lips slowly curled upward, bearing their fangs.

"Son of Innoruuk," she cursed. Kahn bounced from her shoulder to the tree and she brought her weapons up, bellowing out the Perfection of the Maestro as the dog beasts charged, barking and growling with saliva dripping from their maws.

Raaja let out a scream and dove straight into the center of their ranks. She hacked at everything that got close, burning with anger deep in her bones. The will to survive pumped through every blood vessel and coated every nerve. Fur and blood filled her vision. Barks and yelps sounded out as one kobold was sliced across the face and another slashed on the chest. A cluster of the beasts was knocked back with the reverberations of her songs, falling straight into the vicious claws and maws of their fellows.

Raaja ducked and dodged, a dance she knew well, but she did not feel as graceful as she normally did. She didn't feel herself at all. Sethri had been right. Something was terribly wrong.

Raaja shrieked as claws raked her side, momentarily stunning her. Another kobold latched onto her arm, fangs breaking her flesh. She rammed her rapier into his throat and up through his brain where it exited between his ears. She freed her arm just as another kobold pounced, giving her seconds to retaliate. The Ayonic Axe split his jaw in midair and they were both knocked to the ground.

Raaja struggled to free her rapier as the last kobold bounded toward her, mouth wide and wet with froth, fangs dripping. She thrust Marrow's Song as he lunged. Her blade went through his throat and into his body so deep that her fist stopped between his fangs. The body dropped with a heavy thud.

Kahn was at her side in seconds, futilely trying to push the dead kobold off of her. It took a moment for her to gather the strength to get back on her feet but when she did she felt the closeness of the shard.

Her right arm was useless, blood streaming down it in bright red rivers, and so she belted her axe. She clutched tightly to Marrow Song, limping toward the graveyard. She could see two skeletal creatures looming over the fragment. She took a deep breath and released it slowly to ready herself. Then, she put away Marrow's Song. There was only one way she was getting that shard.

Raaja ran forward and leapt over the fence, the adrenaline pumping in her veins keeping her from collapsing. A Breathtaking Below knocked the bone golems back and a series of sonic attacks broke down the magic that held them together. One of the golems crumbled into a pile of bones while the other managed to rear its blade-like arms to strike. She ducked between its forearms as they hit the dirt and then it, too, crumbled from the sonic vibrations.

She lay there in the dirt, the shard inches from her fingertips but she was too weak to grab it. _You have to_, she told herself. _You have to get out of the memory to get back to the dream!_

Raaja found a last ounce of strength and pushed herself up, mud mixing with the blood and sweat on her face. She reached for the fragment, uttered her escape word, and snatched the shard. The world blurred again as a blue glow enveloped her before the real monsters of Unrest knew she'd ever come.


	10. The Fifth Dream

**Soulday, Weeping 34, 3828**

Vermin's ranting and raving over Raaja's bloody condition still resonated between her ears, even in the dream world. She didn't even know how or where the Kerra had found her. The world had simply gone black and, when she woke up again, there he was. He patched her up, cursing worriedly all the while. Some of her wounds were infected, others just too deep to heal quickly. She had lost too much blood, he said, and she was lucky to be alive. But all she could think about before she lost consciousness again was that she had gotten the fragment of Thumore D'armer and needed to return it to him.

Raaja shook those thoughts out of her head as she pressed through the dream world. She no longer had to wonder where her Human was; she could feel his presence, just like the shards, and it led her right to him.

"Raaja," he exclaimed, bolting toward her. She felt his arms encircle her and wondered what the hug was for. When he scooped her off of her feet, she realized that she had been collapsing. The weakness and exhaustion she'd felt going into Unrest was gone but the wounds from the endeavor had carried over into the dream.

Thumore laid her onto a collection of furs by the fire and brushed her hair out of her face. Frown lines creased his brow. "What happened to you?" he asked hoarsely. Raaja debated telling the truth and decided a lie would be easier to handle.

"Guild business," she explained. "You should see the other guys..."

He wasn't amused. "Don't lie to me," he scolded, blue eyes staring straight through her. She inwardly squirmed under his intense gaze but couldn't break away.

"There were a few kobolds," she mumbled, "guarding the shard..."

Thumore jumped to his feet and stamped off, kicking at a pile of wood. She shut her eyes tight, pushing tears down her cheeks. She hurt too much to stop them. Thumore put his hands on his hips and hung his head.

"This was a bad idea," he said. "I should never have asked you to go. I don't think you should do this anymore."

Raaja clenched her jaw to keep more tears from coming out and forced herself upright. "Are you crazy?" she rasped. "My wounds will healthey always do! I've been through worse, believe me. You can't stay here forever. You need these fragments!"

He spun around and came to her side to try and force her to lie back down. "What I need is not important right now," he argued. "You're killing yourself—I'm killing you by having you do my work, by having you here—"

"You need these fragments!" she yelled. "I need you to have these fragments!" She flattened her palm on his chest, pressing the fragment into him. He glowed in that brilliant light, stinging more tears from her eyes, and then the light faded.

"I need to see you, too..." he whispered and covered her hand with his.

Raaja felt her heart prick with pain as he got up and crossed to the ever-blazing fire to pour some tea. She stared into the yellow flames and watched thin wisps of gray smoke funnel and whirl around the burning logs.

Thumore returned and handed her a cup of steaming liquid. She took it without question, ready to accept anything he gave offered. The first sip was too hot to taste but eventually the subtle hint of spiced torsis tickled her taste buds.

"Are you alone?" Thumore asked after a long while had passed. She shook her head.

"A guild mate found me and patched me up. I imagine he's with me even now."

The tension in his face eased ever so slightly. He motioned for me to keep drinking and she obliged, watching his brow crease in deep thought. Grogginess overwhelmed her as she finished the tea and she found herself lying down. Thumore brushed her forehead and she grabbed his arms, fingers curling into his tunic.

"No..." she whispered. "No, I'm not ready to go back to sleep..."

He shushed her, gently combing the hair from her face. "Go to sleep..."

"Please don't make me..." she begged, but he shushed her again, stroking her hair until the world went black.

**Windday, Weeping 35, 3828**

When Raaja woke up, she frowned in confusion. The sky was gray and black looming over a hazy fog. She heard the popping of a fire and sought it out. As her vision came into focus, she saw Thumore gently petting a sleeping Kahn. She sat up, drawing his attention.

"I didn't wake up. I'm not out of the dream world."

"No," he said, crossing over to her. "You were not strong enough to wake up. Your friend has done well, though. Your body is recovering its strength quickly."

Part of her was relieved and part of her was disappointed. She knew she had a life to live outside of the dream but she was beginning to like the idea of never waking up. It scared her, shamed her, filled her with guilt, but the thought would not be unseated.

"How are you feeling?" Raaja asked. His smile was filled with torment.

"That's not really a question for me, is it?"

She pressed her hand to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. "The third fragment is inside of you now. You've regained much strength."

He covered her hand with his own. "I feel nearly complete," he agreed. "It should all be over soon."

Those words rattled her until the displeasure was evident in her face. He suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She buried her face in his shoulder and tried to ignore the parts of her body that protested the embrace. She began to hum quietly to block out the sting of her slow-healing wounds. Thumore leaned back and tilted her chin up.

"Your music is beautiful. Play for me some time," he said.

Raaja nodded. "I promise."

He held her once more until the world faded. When she opened her eyes, she saw Vermin hunched over in a chair, breathing softly with sleep. His furry hand held hers. She twisted her lips to keep them from trembling and closed her fingers around his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. The Kerra stirred and slowly opened his eyes. When he saw she was awake, he sat up, alert. "I'll be more careful next time. I promise."

"More careful," he echoed in bitter amusement. "You're a terrible liar, Raj." He tried to laugh like it was a joke but he couldn't. He cleared his throat and looked away but his hand remained in hers.


	11. A Night of Interruptions

**Mirthday, Blossoming 4, 3828**

"Here, grab me a cup of blueberries," Deveryn said and passed Raaja a stone cup. "Snap some green beans when you're done cutting celery."

She did as he told her, carefully following his every instruction while he prepared the chicken, boiled soup, fixed a pie, and mixed up some kind of sauce. The idea of managing so much at once nearly made her eyes cross. She was grateful for the simple and mundane tasks he delegated to her.

It wasn't their usual date night but he had visited more often since she had been hurt, intent on supervising her recovery. The gashes on her back had closed up and the stitches were dissolving but the bite on her arm had been infected and was taking longer to heal. The rest of her wounds were purple bruises. She looked worse than she felt with the exception of the growing exhaustion. Her body had healed but her strength hadn't returned.

Raaja chopped the celery, humming softly in the absence of conversation. Deveryn didn't speak to her except to give her new instructions, focused on the task at hand. She wondered if something else was bothering him. When he put the chicken on the stove and the pie in the oven, she thought about asking but he cleared his throat and stopped the words in her throat.

"Not bad," he mumbled from over her should. "You're getting better."

Raaja laughed. "At chopping things? Taking orders? Because I know it's not cooking."

"I was going for the taking orders bit," he said with a smile. "Maybe you'll get in less trouble now."

"Unlikely."

As he turned away from the stove and wiped his hands off on a cloth, he looked at her intently. Suddenly, he reached out and gently caught her chin, angling her face to the side and narrowing his gaze on the scar near her eye.

"It's not healing very well..." he remarked. "Don't the healing magics prevent scarring when attended to quickly?"

"Yes." She cringed at telling him the truth. "Which is why it's healing slower," she admitted. "I was a little late to the healer."

He nodded, his face set with stern lines. Concern, disapproval, a need for understanding—it was written in his wrinkled brow. She opened her mouth to say something, to reassure him, but a thunderous banging suddenly vibrated the house and they both jumped. Dust and silt were knocked out of the ceiling cracks and Deveryn immediately dove to shield their dinner contamination.

"Is your place under siege or is that someone at the door?"

Raaja squinted at the trembling ceiling. "At this point, I'm really not sure..."

He narrowed his gaze on her suspiciously. "That's reassuring. How many enemies have you made?"

"Lately?"

Just then, the pounding stopped. The front door splintered on the hinges and smacked against the wall. Booming footsteps scurried around the foyer.

"Raajaz!" a deep voice bellowed. "Raajaz!"

Deveryn rolled his eyes and she grinned.

"Down here, Herak!" she exclaimed.

Large feet hammered across the foyer and down the steps until her best friend burst from the stairwell. The Ogre accidentally bumped the table and chairs to the side with a loud clank as he ducked under the support arch. She ran to meet him and gave him a big hug. He picked her up and squeezed her so tight she thought she might be crushed.

"Herak! Down!" she exclaimed. He put her down and she straightened her clothes. "I heard you were out in the Wastes. What brings you back so quickly?"

"Raajaz hurtz!" he exclaimed. "Herak cumz fastestz! Wot hurtz Raajaz?" He suddenly looked angry. "What needz smashin'?"

"Don't worry. It's okay... I smashed them all," she told him. He still seemed upset, and an Ogre as a ball of emotion is a heartbreaking thing. She gave him another hug. "I'm alright, Herak. I promise. Stay for dinner, alright?"

He nodded and took a seat. The chair broke and so Herak helped her carry the couch from the foyer down to the table while Deveryn went back and forth between cooking dinner and fixing the broken chair.

"I owe you one," Raaja whispered as she went back to the chopping Deveryn had ordered.

"You owe me, like, four," he corrected. She grinned and nodded.

Just as the pie was brought out of the oven, a knock was heard on the front door. Deveryn gave her an accusing stare and she threw up her hands in surrender.

"I didn't! I swear!" she exclaimed but his stare did not relent. She backed away. "I'll just... go see who that is!"

"If it's a guildie, tell them to eat somewhere else!"

"I'm sure it's just a neighbor," she assured him as she inched toward the stairs, "or the city guard. A fellow adventurer come to borrow a whetstone. A cat."

"That's a big cat..."

Raaja ducked out of the kitchen and climbed the stairs two by two. Her door was hanging awkwardly in the frame. She barely touched it and it fell away, revealing Vermin. One of his ears twitched. He stared at her intently, looked her over three times. His ear twitched again.

"Uh, hi," she greeted him.

"Did you know you have holes in your house?" he asked.

"What?" She glanced out the door and saw two Ogre fist-sized imprints on both sides of the frame. "Oh. Geez. I'll, uh… I'll fix that later. What's going on?"

"I came to tell you about the Pawbuster raid. We're pulling out in about a month or so. I wanted to make sure you'd be healthy enough to go."

Raaja pursed her lips to contain the emotion that threatened to bubble over. She was surrounded by guild mates who worried about her, who wanted to make sure she was okay, who loved her. It made her feel so incredibly warm.

"I'll be there," she promised. "Stay for dinner?"

"Who's cooking?"

"Deveryn."

"Oh, good," he said as he came inside. "I'll never forget the last time someone let you in front of a stove."

"It was a cat," Raaja explained as they entered the kitchen, trying her best to flash a pretty smile. Deveryn just shook his head, already serving a fourth plate of food.


	12. A Memory of Scale

**Spryday, Oceansfull 7, 3828**

When Raaja had showed up in the guild hall's main hall where the other Bloodsworn raiders had gathered for the raid, she was met with concerned and questioning looks. They had all heard the rumors—that she was mysteriously ill and unreasonably wounded. Her injuries were almost completely healed but she didn't feel any better. She felt worse. She was feverish, sweating, and if anyone looked close enough they would see her trembling, but she kept her distance to avoid raising suspicions. She didn't want to worry them.

The pinnacle of the Growth season brought heat and storms to the chilly Kylong Plains and warm rain gently fell on the Bloodsworn raiders as the bridge keeper drolvarg were cut down. As the group slowly moved across the bridge connecting Karnor's Castle's outer stronghold to the inner sanctum, Raaja wiped water droplets from her face and looked up at the gray sky.

"Enemies down! Move forward!" Groo shouted as Terrakor led the fighters and the chain and plate healers into the castle. Raaja squinted against the rain as the mages and druids advanced.

Agizmo tapped her on the arm as she passed. "Thanks for the Jester's Cap," she said with a smile. Raaja returned it and nodded, thinking the snow bunny hat on her head looked mangy in the rain. They were all soaked to the bone—and Kahn looked like a rat—but spirits were high. She waited for the rest of the casters to move across the bridge, hair slopping against her cheeks as she looked this way and that, before following them inside.

That's when she felt it. The pull. She stilled and listened, wondering how a shard could be on Kunark and she didn't feel it until she was right on top of it. It was close. Very close.

"It's in the castle," she whispered.

"What is?" Ciryna asked as she came up beside her. Raaja didn't answer her, barely even heard her. All she could hear was the shard calling out to her. She started running.

"Raaja?" Groo asked as she approached the front lines. She bolted past Terrakor and Athazia at the head of the force.

"Raaja!" Terrakor yelled. She jumped over two drolvarg guards as the raid force rushed after her, ignoring their shouts to come back.

She wasn't sure how many beasts were trained behind her but she didn't stop to look. She heard their barks and the scrape of their claws on the stone, but she kept her eyes ahead. If she didn't stop, they would never be able to catch her.

She followed the pull of the fragment deeper into the castle, ducking swinging paws and dodging snapping maws until the world finally blurred into the memory that housed Thumore's fragment. The drolvarg were gone and silence loomed in the corridors. She inched forward, shaking after expending so much energy running.

As she approached a corner, she heard the hissing breath of Iksar warriors. She peeked at their forces then put her back to the wall. Too many. She could never fight them in her condition. Her only hope was to run it.

Raaka took three deep breaths then pushed off of the wall and dashed around the corner. The Iksar barely knew what had gone past them before she was racing down the corridor. They immediately gave chase. She darted around a corner, jumped down a flight of stairs, and tumbled into a pool of water. When she looked up, a pair of large, round eyes imbedded in lime green skin was staring at her inches from her face.

"Woah!" she exclaimed and leapt backward. The Reet Frogloks crowded around her with mouths pulled into perpetual grins. She snatched Kahn out of the water as she slipped around them. She climbed out of the water and raced down more corridors until she came to the final descent.

In front of Pawbuster's empty throne lay Thumore's fourth fragment, guarded by more hissing Iksar and wide-eyed Reet Frogloks. They stared up at her, waiting. Their eyes dared her to try and take it. Her chest heaved, sweat poured down her face, and her body ached. She heard the collection of trained enemies closing in and knew her time was short. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began shouting, stirring up her enemies until they shouting back. When she charged down the stairs, they began climbing to meet her.

She jumped over their heads and rolled when she hit the bottom. They turned so fast, many lost their balance and some topped over. Raaja raced forward, dove, and snatched up the fragment.

When the memory faded, she saw the Bloodsworn raid force cutting down the last of the drolvarg guards just a few feet away. She stood up and slipped the shard into her backpack. Vardas, the cold and calculating Erudite coercer, approached her first.

"Are you alright?" he asked in his monotone voice. His dark eyes were sizing her up, making her uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," she replied, pushing past him. He stopped her with another question.

"Are you fit?"

Raaja's jaw and fists clenched. He thought she was a threat to the raid force. It infuriated her. "I'm fine," she snapped, which didn't help to prove him wrong. She didn't wait for more questions and quickly made her way to Terrakor to answer for her actions.

"Terrakor, I—"

"I think we cleared the castle in record timing," he said with a smile. The on-lookers accepted that and turned their gazes away from them. Terrakor leaned in close to whisper. "Can you continue?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied quietly and nodded.

"Good. We'll talk later."

Vermin eyed her with a frown—he was frowning so often lately—so she avoided his gaze and returned to the middle of the raid force.

"You look pale," Calimew told her. Raaja acknowledged her with a shallow nod. She didn't need any more reminders.

Suddenly a bout of nausea overwhelmed her. Her vision blurred and her stomach started whirling. She bent over, dizzy, and beads of sweat slid down her face.

"Raaja?" Ciryna whispered and placed a hand on her back. She didn't respond, couldn't respond. She was going to hurl—or worse, pass out. No, she thought, not now. Not in front of everyone.

Just as she her knees started to give out, a cool sensation rushed through her limbs. The nausea dissipated and her focus returned. Suddenly, she could breathe easier. She glanced around and saw Elostirion muttering spells of healing. He smiled briefly and put a finger to his lips. Raaja nodded her head in thanks.

And the raid force pressed forward.


	13. Holindale: Olvannrina, Yestmela

**Darkday, Oceansfull 12, 3828**

The successful raid against the drolvarg king Pawbuster was the exciting news buzzing around the guild hall and everyone was deep in celebration of the epic encounter... everyone but Raaja. While they celebrated in the main hall—while bards played songs and raiders danced and sang and drank—she had returned to her home in Freeport.

Raaja brought a sponge to her chest and squeezed hot water onto her skin, lost in thoughts of a different kind—thoughts of the dream world, of Thumore, of why she had hesitated returning there. She scrubbed the rest of the dirt, oil, and muck away and took her time washing her hair until it felt one hundred times lighter and softer than silk. And after Kahn fussed for ten minutes, he was also scrubbed clean.

She wrapped a warm towel around herself as she climbed out of the bath and relaxed against the colorful floor pillows in her washroom. She selected her favorite scent and rubbed the Maji oil into her skin; the main ingredient came from the dracaena plant and smelled of the desert cityerotic and beautiful. Kahn played with the bottle plug to pass the time.

As she emerged into the bedroom, she eyed her armor slumped in a corner, still needing to be cleaned. She told herself she would do it later. She traded the towel for a thin, white tunic, blue fisherman pants, and a gray sweater with a wide neck that hung off one shoulder.

In spite of the bath and relaxation, she still felt exhausted. Worse than exhausted. She felt weak and ready to collapse. She quietly raided the kitchen for leftovers and ate while her hair dried, staring blankly at the wall. She was deep in thought. She knew the reason she hadn't gone to the dream world. Everything had changed since meeting him and would change again upon her return. That was why she waited. She had one gift she wanted to give him, something other than the fragments.

Raaja had been consumed by a melody circling deep in her veins since she'd met him and it grew louder and louder with each passing day until all she could hear was that song swimming in the back of her head, singing never-ending in her heart. It was a song for him and it would be her gift to him.

Outside, it was raining. She lit the candles in her music hall and went to the window to watch the torrent, to listen to its melody. Karana's voice was enchanting. She nestled onto the couch and peered through the glass windows until it was so late the city had hushed completely. Kahn was sleeping beside her when she finally got up and crept into the music room, fighting the tremors and ignoring the chill under her flesh. She had to get herself under control if she was going to do the thing she was determined to do.

The piano stood proudly among the other instruments and its sturdy disposition intimidated her. She took her time approaching it, having to find the courage to do so first. It silently called out to her, waiting to be tamed, waiting for her to press the right keys. The piano knew the song and it was waiting for her to know it, too. It could not sing without her gentle touch and she could not compose without those ivory and onyx keys.

She stood over the piano and ran her hand along the warm wood of the guard. There was something bubbling up underneath her nails, underneath the wooden frame. Something ready—waiting to be born. She brushed her fingertips over the row of black and white keys. When she took a seat and positioned her hands, she waited. She waited for the piano and her to connect, to feel each other. The instrument was ready but could do nothing without her action.

Raaja closed her eyes and breathed deeply for several moments. She felt the music in her body rushing through her veins, through every limb, and into the keys.

Her right hand ring finger dropped and a high and sad note vibrated out of the belly of the beast. The right index finger followed on a separate key while her left hand interjected its own design. She never opened her eyes to watch her fingers move over each ivory sliver, tap each pitch-colored block. She felt the music. This wasn't a piece that needed parchment. She had written this composition ages ago and it was written on her heart.

The melody shifted to a deep sound, building momentum as it unraveled on the keys. The sound she heard coming from the piano was in perfect sync with the sound she heard inside herself. Raaja let it overtake her. The finest moment in a musician's life is when she becomes lost in the music. She no longer thinks about the keys, about the ears listening, about the piano and the bench and her performance. When she becomes lost in the music, there is no piano and there is no bard. There is just a song.

Raaja's arm glided down the length of the keyboard, struck three high notes, and came back to the center. The fury in her playing increased, collecting all of the pain, the confusion, the joy, the sorrow, the hope, the desire, the fear, the anguish, and the need into a series of notesa secret composition. This was his music, the end of a memory and the beginning of something new.

The music came down a notch and the deep rhythm swayed steadily for a moment with a carefully placed plink, beat, beat, plink repeated for several bars. Then the music exploded again, one last crescendo as all of the promise in her composition, spoken in the language of the goddess of music, fought to reach his ears.

As the song began to fade, one note hummed for several beats, accompanied by the soft sounds of the last refrain, and all was shadowed by the rain. One last, deep sound vibrated in the dimly lit room until there was silence. Every last ounce of her emotion and energy was spent with the final measure and she prayed to Ayonae Ro that, somehow, all of it had reached him in the dream world he was bound to.


	14. The Sixth Dream

**Burnday, Oceansfull 13, 3828**

Thumore and Raaja stared at one another from across the camp—him on one side of the fire and her on the other. It crackled and popped in the silence. Even in the void, she could hear the faint echo of her song and I wondered if she heard it in her mind or in realityif this dream could be called such. They were so focused on one another that neither noticed Kahn was not at her side.

"Thumore," she whispered in greeting.

"Raaja," he quietly greeted back.

Her ears burned at the sound of his voice calling her name, anchoring her to this world. The pain was gone. Her wounds were healed, the fatigue had lifted, and felt right for the first time in monthsmaybe years.

"Long ago, I was told a story," she began, "about the Wood Elves of Faydwer. They were forced to abandon their home, Kelethin, the city in the trees. A plague had befallen their people, brought into their home on the backs of Antonican fire beetles presented to the elders as a gift from Human desert nobles. The Crushbone Orc attacked them when they were weak and forced their retreat."

Thumore listened intently. His blue eyes never left hers, gaze so dark and intense that it heated her from the inside. There was tension in his brow, mouth set in a stern line, jaw locked tight. He was barely contained, rigid from resisting energy that sought to propel him forward.

"The Elves were kept from their home for seven cycles of Luclin's Eye until they had fully recovered from the blight. The High Elves of Felwithe fought at their side to recover the lost city in the trees and the contagion was destroyed. The Wood Elves were finally allowed to return home."

Thumore searched her face for some clue as to the point of the story but she gave nothing away.

"I remember the bard's face when she described the Fier'dal's return to Kelethin. 'We're home!' they all cried in their native tongue. 'We're home! Halathe nare na Tunare, e'bis celediir. Se ma'nha, se ma'nha, we're home!'"

"What does it mean?" he asked her.

"It has no direct translation. In those few words, the Wood Elves expressed their homecoming as two halves of their souls united again. The tree city was home and they had bound themselves to it. The only way to be whole was to be home. Reuniting with the land—a homecoming—was to return to the place of belonging."

Thumore smiled very faintly, finally understanding.

"I feel that way when I return to you here," she told him.

He crossed to her before he said, "It is the same for me."

"I played for you. Did you hear it?"

"The music still resonates within you," he whispered. His hands cupped her cheeks, fingers curling around tufts of auburn hair and palms molding to the curve of her face. "I heard every note."

Raaja closed her eyes to shut out the distraction, to know that being together would be more than a memory. She wasn't sure if any of it was real—him, the shards, that place—but she felt his body touching hers and knew it was real enough.

"Raaja, if you remain, I will not send you away," he said. She opened her eyes, took in his clear skin, his red-orange hair and beard, his Iceclad eyes. "I won't ask you to go—" He stopped himself. His expression was something she hadn't seen since Garrett had looked upon her. There was surrender and desire pulled into the shape of his mouth, the lines around his eyes, and the slant of his brow. "Please don't go."

"You couldn't make me," she murmured, "even if you tried."

He covered her defiant mouth with his own and kissed her deeply. A single kiss became a flood of touches—of lips, of tongues, of hands, of chests. She wrapped her arms around him and took fistfuls of his tunic as he pressed into her, hands dedicated to the small of her back and waist, holding her against him.

Suddenly he was carrying her across the camp and laying her atop the collection of furs he used as a bed. Their clothes were discarded and a marriage of flesh became a night long affair until the fire burned down to mere embers and white ash.

When their passions were satisfied, Thumore kissed Raaja's forehead and quickly tended the fire until a blaze returned. It was only then that she remembered the reason for coming to him—the reason she had met him in the first place. She rolled over to collect the shard from her pants pocket and waited for him to come back to bed.

When he lay down beside her, she unfurled her fingers to show him the glowing fragment. He smiled brightly.

"I'd forgotten," he confessed and peeked at her expression. She ducked her head to hide her blush. He reached out and stroked her cheek. "You show it to me as if I still need it."

"Don't you?"

"No," he replied and grinned. "Not if I have you."

Raaja made a face that provoked his laughter. He laid his hand over hers and the white light enveloped him. She shut her eyes to spare them the bright shock and refused to let go of his hand when it was done. Even though she knew she could stay with him forever and that time, unwanted, would never pass, something about the moment felt temporal.

In spite of a foreign sadness hovering over their heads, they were both filled with a joy that could not be snuffed out. They laughed and talked for hours, incorrigible in their touches. And after they had made love a second time, they slept.

**Soulday, Oceansfull 14, 3828**

Thumore smiled at Raaja when she woke. She was relieved that she hadn't woken to reality and wondered if it was his power or her resolve that had anchored her in the dream world.

"I haven't noticed your fuzzy friend..." he began casually.

"He isn't with me this time."

"Won't you miss him?" he asked.

She nodded. "I will."

A moment of silence stretched between them as they considered Kahn's absence and what it meant for her. The monkey was her best friend and had been with her amost of her life. Would she spend the rest of it without him? Could she?

Thumore reached up and brushed the hair from her eyes.

"And do I have your love?"

Raaja nodded again. "You do."

Thumore smiled and kissed her once more.


	15. An Impregnable Slumber

**Spryday, Oceansfull 17, 3828**

Nearly a week went by before Agizmo, one of the Bloodsworn necromancers, found Raaja. She had come to return a book and borrow another from the bards library—the second collection of the Tales of Aiur—but there was no answer. She checked with fellow guildmates but all confirmed the last known whereabouts of their troubador was Freeport. So she came every day for three days before forcing her way in.

"Raaja?" she called as she hesitantly stepped into the foyer. The home was dark and cold. Something wasn't right. She slowly started up the stairs toward the bedroom. "Raaja?"

Tiny hands suddenly grabbed her ankle and she yelped and threw her back against the wall. When she looked down to see what had her, a pair of round, black eyes were stared up at her, brimming with animalistic fear. It shook her to the core. A pathetic and quiet cry slipped past his vocal chords.

"What's wrong?" she asked as a creeping concern started to bloom in her gut and spread roots through her chest. "Where's Raaja?"

Kahn leapt down the steps and dashed off, running a straight shot to the music room at the back of the house. Agizmo stared into the darkness he'd run into but saw nothing. She anticipated the worse.

"Raaja?" she called, fear edging her tone. She began descending the steps. "Raaja." Her pace quickened until she was close enough to see a body slumped on the floor, a blanket haphazardly pulled over her. "Raaja!" she screamed. The book fell from her hands as she ran her guildmate and dropped to her knees beside her. She rolled her onto her back, checking for wounds, abrasions, bruises—anything—but all she found was a slow and feeble heartbeat.

Agizmo pressed her hand to her forehead and tried to think. She could not sense a single thing wrong. Kahn whimpered again and gently shook the bards shoulder. Knowing she needed help, she darted back into the foyer and to Raaja's desk, ripped parchment from a book, and dabbed her quill in ink. She scrawled two notes in rushed scratch and threw open the front door.

"Send these letters!" she cried to the nearest person and thrust them into a Dark Elf's fist

"Send your own lett—" the violet-skinned woman began with a glare but Agizmo's dark expression silenced her.

"Send them and quickly, or I will rip the spirit from your flesh, the flesh from your bones, and chain you to this world to serve in my undead army when I call for it."

The woman inched backward, inspired by the icy words. "Is that a threat?" she asked dumbly. Agizmo shoved coin in the Dark Elf's hand.

"A promise," she replied and returned to the house. Back inside, she watched as Kahn dragged the blanket over Raaja once more and went to help him. "How long have you been like this?" she asked aloud. "You're cold as ice."

She scooped her up and laid her on the couch in the hearth room, quickly made a fire, then hunted down all the blankets she could find.

**Feastday, Oceansfull 21, 3828**

Herak was the first to respond to Agizmo's summons and arrived the very next day to find her condition had not improved. With the upmost gentleness, he moved her to the bedroom. Herak would've been content to carry her to the ends of Norrath looking for a cure.

She laid there for days while he and Agizmo watched over her, waiting for the others to arrive. Kahn sat unmoving on the pillow beside her. He refused to eat, refused to drink, and slept only when he could not stay awake any longer.

**Burnday, Oceansfull 23, 3828**

Athazia arrived with Vermin, Terrakor, Xelian, and Silldar in tow. The healers examined the bard and set about their healing treatments but nothing they did woke her. Their magic could not rescue her from a dream, only keep her from death.

**Souldday, Oceansfull 24, 3828**

"She's in a coma," Athazia explained to the others, "though I do not know why. She responds to nothing and there is no physical trauma that could've caused this."

"She's been waning," Vermin said. "I saw her condition worsen after I found her in the Butcherblock Mountains. Her wounds healed but she did not."

"During the raid as well," Terrakor murmured.

"There's nothing we can do," Silldar admitted, "except to keep watch."

Xelian agreed. "A healer should stay with her at all times, if to do nothing but keep the hunger from killing her. She will need to stay hydrated and warm."

"We should summon Emmeline to ward her. Her immune system is weak and will only continue to diminish," Silldar suggested, and everyone agreed.

"I will take the first watch," Athazia announced.

Terrakor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "During the raid," he began, "she bolted off into the castle, very dead-set. She wouldn't stop for anything, almost like she was looking for something, like she knew it was there."

"Or running from it," Silldar added.

"I don't think so," Terrakor mumbled. "But why then? Why wait?"

"Because she didn't know it was there," Vermin realized, "until we got inside."

"I saw her appear," Terrakor told them, "in the throne room. At first, I thought the drolvarg had just blocked my sight, but I remember now. She just appeared out of thin air. When she came to me to explain, she seemed fine, like she had found what she was looking for."

"Looking for what?" Vermin asked.

"I don't know. I never got the chance to ask. Raaja," Terrakor reached out to hold her hand, "what have you gotten into?"

**Mirthday, Oceansfull 40, 3828**

Sethri needed no summons or to hear any rumors that her sister was unwell. She could feel it in her soul. She immediately returned from the Steppes and came to her sister as a shadow in the night, when all of her guardians were sleeping. She held her hand tightly and caressed her face.

"Raaja," she whispered. "I know where you are." She leaned in and put her mouth next to hers. "A dream is not so strong to evade the bond of Marr." She pressed her wrist to Raaja's, the ancient symbol of twin blood. "I need you to wake up now, Raaja. Let a dream remain a dream and return to us. Tell him, he must let you go. Tell him, he must find you. Now... wake up, Raaja. Wake up."


	16. Return, Recover, Remember

**Feastday, Scorchedsky 1, 3828**

Raaja had awoken next to Thumore many, many times and had fallen asleep the same way. They made love, spent hours talking, and ate together day after day—or what she assumed to be day. The sky never changed and the fire always burned and the temperature remained a constant cool.

The only voice to penetrate their time was that of her sister, Sethri, and her voice was tight with emotion as though she had lived through the torment with her. The words came after they had just woken to another gray morning. Raaja remained in bed while Thumore dressed and began preparing breakfast.

"Wake up," Sethri said as clearly as if she had been right next to her sister. "It's time to wake up."

Raaja shut her eyes tight and waited until her presence was gone before opening them again. Then she got dressed and sat by the fire. Thumore passed her a plate of eggs and sausagewhere they came from, she had no idea—and sat down next to her. When they had finished breakfast, he put his arm around her and pulled her close then pressed his mouth to her forehead.

"Having you here has been wonderful, Raaja," he began quietly, "but this is not right. If I care for you, I cannot keep you here no matter how much I wish it."

Raaja slipped her hand into his and held it tightly. "I would've stayed with you."

"I know you would not have. There are people waiting for you and you would honor their friendship."

"I would honor yours, too."

"I know," he said, smiling. "I am close now to becoming whole once more and returning back to the world I call home. If I can ask you to—"

"I will find the last fragment," she assured him. "You do not need to ask me."

He nodded and they stared at one another for a long time. Finally, he pulled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight.

"You have to wake up now, Raaja," he whispered, urgency hemming regret. She pressed her face to his chest and closed her eyes.

"I will come back," she promised. "I will not forget you."

**Darkday, Scorchedsky 2, 3828**

When Raaja opened her eyes, she saw her bedroom ceiling and instantly felt cold and alone. Sethri's gentle hand brushed the hair from her forehead and took her temperature.

"Welcome back," she said quietly, tears on her cheeks. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"I promise," Raaja said and was crying before she even realized there were tears in her eyes.

**Steelday, Scorchedsky 6, 3828**

Raaja's guild mates welcomed her back from the edge of darkness with heaps of affection and love, warming up the cold loneliness she had felt. Kahn's spirits were instantly lifted but his frail body ripped a guilty hole in her. She had been unable to stop hugging him.

Deveryn made a fuss over both their states of malnutrition and forced food down their throats as often as Xelian allowed him to. Raaja was supported by her whole Bloodsworn family with frequent visits and aid to her recuperation. No one but Vardas asked her what had happened but Agizmo gave him such a scolding that he stopped asking her questions altogether.

**Moorday, Scorchedsky 28, 3828**

With the help of her loving guild family, plenty of nutrition, and lots of healing magic, Raaja's physical condition had almost completely recovered in two weeks, and the fatigue and trembling that had plagued her for so long had abated. She was finally feeling like her old self.

She did not forget her promise to Thumore, however. She spent most of her bedridden days trying to connect the locations of the fragments but her mind was too foggy.

**Brewday, Scorchedsky 39, 3828**

When Raaja had finally recovered enough to be allowed out of bed, she spent as much time studying in the library as she could. Her house guests stopped staying over and only visited to check up on her, so she had plenty of privacy to piece the puzzle together.

She made notes of everything that had happened in a journal and spent days pouring over lore and maps. It wasn't until she had physically marked the locations the shards were discovered on a map of known Norrath that the pattern began to emerge.

Her finger traced the path across the paper.

"The first fragment was found in the Desert of Ro. The second," her hand drifted to the corner of the map, "was in the Overrealm's Bonemire. The third surfaced on Faydwer and the fourth in the lands of Kunark." She slipped into a chair and Kahn hopped into her lap. "Could it really be so simple?" she thought out loud.

She pushed Kahn up to her shoulder and went to one of many bookcases, running her fingertips across the spines of books, volume after volume, until she found the title she was looking for. She set the book down over the map, opened the old binding, and sifted through the aged pages until she found the passage she was seeking.

"Then in the year of Fenin Ro," she read, "the first ships from the isle of Ro made port on D'Lere and the desert lords told of the city of Maj'dul and the oasis reshaped in the south, the recovered southern arm of the Freeport of old. Still arid and bare and full of peril, Ro's kingdom remained, transformed, and proclaimed inaction to the Shattered Lands' conflict. Their borders would remain open to all and all would be policed according to the laws laid down by the Dervish Dominion and Sovereignty and by the Three Governing Courts of the Sultan." She skipped ahead until she saw the script break and a capital O for Overrealm started the next paragraph. "In the year of Xegony, the three planes of the Overrealm opened up to Norrath—" She skipped again. "Echoes of Faydwer resounded early in the year and the wilds of Tunare's continent emerged—" She turned the page. "Contact with Kunark was reestablished when—"

Raaja glanced down at the map again. Only one island had resurfaced that she had yet to look.

**Windday, Warmstill 5, 3828**

"Terrakor!" Raaja exclaimed, running across the guild hall to where he was standing by the mender.

"Milady," he greeted her. "I'm glad to see you're better."

She smiled. "Thank you. I need your help."

He frowned in confusion. "Anything. What can I do?"

"I need the raiders' help," she explained, "to navigate the Moors of Ykesha."


	17. A Memory of Nothingness

**Steelday, Warmstill 16, 3828**

The moment the Skystrider's maroon sails and cranking gears beneath old wood boards docked at the landing zone in the Moors of Ykesha and twenty-four Bloodsworn raiders stepped onto the skydock, Raaja felt the pull of the fragment. Terrakor eyed her for confirmation. Only he knew the real reason they were there.

"It's here," she confirmed.

The raiders pressed forward, each crossing the gorge via the Upper Dropzone Gnomecannon. It took four balloons to send the whole force to Firmroot Moot. Terrakor and Raaja rode together in the first balloon so that he could stay apprised of any developments. She appreciated his help but was mostly grateful that he didn't pry into the details of their mad venture.

The swamp lands proved hotter in the Harvest heat and they were all sweating even as night descended. Firmroot Moot was cloaked with fog and fireflies by the time the last balloon arrived. Since no other balloons ran at night, many suggested the raiders stay in Firmroot until morning but Terrakor insisted they go through the swamp.

The trek through the Innothule swamp was slow-going in the fog but they slogged through. Raaja remained the quiet guide while Terrakor took command, directing the force this way and that. They reached the Overlook by morning and where the balloons were up and running. They managed to take a large one down the cliff that accommodated the whole force.

At Tillage Patch, she felt the pull of the fragment stronger than ever. "Southeast," she told Terrakor. He gave the order but felt uneasy, wondering how far southeast she intended to take them. He knew what resided in the south of the Moors and the darkness they marched toward.

Crossing the lakes took time but, once they hit the Shadowed Cleft, it was a straight and quick march south past Gunthak's Shanty and the Salty Sail Port.

**Brewday, Warmstill 19, 3828**

By morning, on the shores of the Brokenskull Farpost, they could see Brokenskull Rock in the distance.

"Are you sure?" he asked and she nodded. "You know what waits for us there, don't you?"

She nodded again. "The Palace of Ferzhul."

"Aye. And do you intend to go inside?"

"Yes."

"I don't like it," he said with a hard look. And then he hopped onto a rock, turned to face the raid, and bellowed out, "To Brokenskull Rock!"

Their march into the Gunthak Sea was like a great, rolling wave. A great uproar preceded their arrival as they swarmed the docks and spilled into the caves, killing every void-touched troll and ogre that came at them. They climbed to the top of the rock, fighting wave after wave of pirates until the imposing tear in the fabric crackled before them. Beyond lay the void.

Raaja felt the ominous tug of the shard as she reached toward the tear. She hesitated and glanced back at the raiders. Her eyes settled on Terrakor.

"When inside, I will be sucked into a dream world. Fight forward. I promise I will be underneath your actions. When I retrieve the shard, I will return to you."

Terrakor nodded. "Go ahead," he said. She reached out and grabbed the light without hesitation. They were pulled into the void.

They stood before an angry plane where a red and magenta sky churned overhead and lightening crackled unremittingly. Large chunks of rock drifted above and below. Dead trees sprouted from a menacing architecture of stairs leading up to a sinister tower. Shadows circled slowly above their heads, swimming on the air, and voidbeasts stalked the walkways beyond.

Raaja looked back at Terrakor and the others but their faces blurred away as she was sucked into the dream. "The portal!" she yelled but they were gone. She swallowed the lump in her throat and ripped her weapons from their hilts.

She jumped down onto the ground from the portal dais and raced up the far incline. The hiss of a voidmonster ended before he ever had a chance to attack as her axe took his head clean off his body. She ran up the stairs to the next challenge where her blades clashed with the razor-like arms of a voidbeast. She ducked under his powerful swings and plunged her rapier into his gut then embedded her axe into his chest.

She ripped her weapons free as the next beast came at her. She jumped up, kicked off his mass, and slashed at his arms as she back-flipped. The strike barely grazed his thick skin. Unfazed, he hacked at her relentlessly as she dodged side-to-side. She slapped one of his arms away and buried her rapier in his gut. He wrapped his bladed arms around her and squeezed, trying to saw her small body in half but she was too small against his broad chest and he couldn't effectively use the blades on his arms. She struggled to free herself as his serrated limbs scraped against her armor. She managed to wriggle her arm free and rip the rapier along his ribcage, opening his belly.

He roared in her face and she felt his hot, wet breath on her skin. She screamed back at him as she struggled to free her other arm. She pressed her axe to his neck and sliced his throat so deeply that his head fell backward and hung between his shoulder blades. Raaja tumbled to the ground as he fell over with a sickening crunch.

She steadied herself and paused to catch her breath. She stood before the ice-encased shard, slick with blood, and glared at three unnaturally large Trolls. Something inside of her snapped. She let out a breathtaking bellow and the ice shattered in an explosive blast. The Trolls went flying, embedded with shrapnel. She pounced upon them. She slit one Troll's throat as he tried to rise and viciously hacked at another's chest as he stumbled to his feet. The last was just drawing his weapon when she opened his belly and spilled his guts onto his feet.

Raaja gasped for breath as she surveyed the carnage. Her body trembled from the adrenaline. One thought circulated her mind—it's almost over. She was tired of dreams and nightmares and memories.

With the landing clear, she scooped up the shard and the world changed for the last time. The Bloodsworn Raiders were there waiting for her. Terrakor crossed the platform to stand in front of her.

"It's done," she told him. "Thank you." She looked at each of their faces. "All of you. Thank you."


	18. The Last Dream

**Darkday, Warmstill 22, 3828**

Raaja walked into an empty camp. The fire burned, unattended. Kahn hopped down from her shoulder and wandered around, looking for signs of life. Raaja closed her eyes and tried to sense him like she sensed the fragments. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her from behind and she resisted a smile. He held her for a long time, nose nuzzling her neck. She was filled up with warmth.

"Welcome back," he whispered. She turned in his arms and lifted her fist.

"I've brought your final shard."

She opened her fingers to show him the final fragment in her palm. He cupped his hand around hers, staring it as though it were both a snake ready to strike and the key to his salvation, as if this tiny jewel was the end of everything they had ever had together. When he met her eyes, the love he saw in them gave him confidence. He bent to kiss her as he drew her hand to his chest and let the fragment dissolve into his skin. For the first time, Raaja was a part of that bright flash of light and it felt warm.

"You're whole now," she whispered.

"I am." A new light shone in his eyes, vivid with intense clarity. "You have done a tremendous service, Raaja. Not just to me, but, quite possibly, to all of Norrath as well."

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"Now that I have all of the shards of my lost self, I can finally break free of this world and return to the world I once called home." A smile played at his lips. "All of those poor souls you intended to save will be released. They will remember nothing."

Raaja had completely forgotten about them. They were no longer important. Freeing him had been all that mattered to her.

"When can I see you?" she wanted to know. "Where can I meet you? I will go anywhere on Norrath you ask."

He gently touched her cheek to calm her. His ocean eyes were smiling, free of apprehension and uncertainty. "I mean to return to the memories and dreams of all across Norrath, return to my place I gave up so long ago." She frowned again as the possibilities of what he was saying triggered warning alarms in her heart. "The memories and dreams of Norrath have helped to hold my shattered self... until you came to help me gather those shards once again," he explained. "You're right. I am finally whole."

"What do you mean the memories and dreams of Norrath?" she asked, suspicious. "Those were not your dreams?"

"No," he confirmed. "Not exactly."

She searched his eyes for an answer but he gave nothing away. "Who are you?"

He kissed her forehead. "You will know me once again. I promise. We will meet each other again someday." He chuckled. "And what a day that will be."

"When?"

"I don't know." His thumb stroked her cheek as she looked away in distress. "Don't wear such a face. I see much now that you cannot." He closed his eyes and she sensed something happening, felt a release in the void. "Those souls are free," he told her. "It's your turn now."

Raaja shook her head. "No, I'm not ready to go."

"I am sorry I kept you here so long, Raaja…"

"Please don't be sorry."

"I could've taken everything from you in my selfishness."

"It was my choice."

"I won't make that mistake again," he said firmly and hugged her tightly. "I will come to hear you play some day," he whispered in her ear. "So keep playing for me until that time, and I will hear your music and think of you, know you are thinking of me." She opened her mouth to speak but he silenced her with a final kiss. "Wake up, Raaja Frozenstar," he said softly, and the world went dark.

**Steelday, Busheldown 36, 3828**

Thumore D'armer's face was smiling—his eyes, his lips, his entire countenance—and he was moving in and out of darkness as if bobbing up and down in water. As she moved closer, he was enraptured in light. They stood together on a cold cliff, wrapped in fur, wrapped in snow, eyes fixed on something that caused their hearts to swell with joy. The wanted warmth came with wooden walls and a homey hearth, lying on a rug, laughing. There was wine on their lips, his lips on her stomach, her stomach pressed to his, rolling. She heard the cries, saw tiny eyes mirror his and ears that looked like hers.

"Carry the moon," he whispered. His hand folded across hers held against her tummy and his nose nuzzled her neck. "Carry the night, and all that it brings."

Thunder clapped and Raaja's eyes opened. A dream. It had all been a dream—a real one. It was the middle of the night and rain was pouring in a torrent outside. She glanced at the pillow beside her where Kahn was curled up, chest rising and falling with the slow breaths of sleep.

She quietly slipped out of bed, pulled a blanket around her shoulders, and crept down to the kitchen where she quickly fixed a cup of hot tea. She had not dreamt of Thumore since their parting, but she thought of him often. The song she had composed for him crossed the piano keys so often that the piano could practically play the song itself.

Raaja stopped in the music room on her way up from the kitchen. She punched a few keys, playing a couple of slow notes. Then the house was silent, except for the rain thunder outside. She moved on. Remnants of her guild mates remained in every room. She couldn't clean them up—not yet. The remnants were evidence of their great love. She cherished them.

After everything that had happened, she did not regret the ending nor did she regret the choice to start the tale at all. Parts of her had questioned whether it had been real or not but the doubts were quickly stomped out. She was the proof.

Raaja went to a window to watch the rain, casually sipping her tea. Moonlight filtered through the latticework and cast a diamond-shape pattern on her body from head to stomach. She replayed the dream over and over again in her mind but did not come up with any answers about its meaning. But she would remember everything. Maybe, one day, she would live it, too.

"I miss you," she whispered. But she was not lonely. She had her sister. She had Kahn. She had the guild, and she would never let them down again.

Bloodsworn was her family that would never disappear.

The End


End file.
